The Measure of A Man
by emptyfortunecookie
Summary: Kurama gives his own in depth and thoughtful insights on perhaps the most reclusive character of the team. No slash.


_When the character of a man is not clear to you, look at his friends._

--Japanese Proverb

He just stands there, like a statue in a snowstorm; completely motionless and just as cold. There's no expression. It's fixated, like the stone workings of a wall, but twice as unmovable.

A merciless glare, tightly strung over a sea of curious emotions that you wonder if even he knows about. Every now and then, though, a flicker of light betrays a certain thought behind those stern red eyes, and you remember that there's more beneath the dark, wrinkled brow and tightly drawn mouth.

It's true his tongue is often sharper than his sword, and sometimes the cuts it yields are deeper as well, but in truth you know that it is only his way of doing things. He wouldn't say anything if it didn't mean something to him. He's cold, but not so much that you cannot see through the words and actions. It's all a matter of watching his countenance. The eyes do not glare so harshly, and the words are not so venomously spat. However you want to take it, it is still a thank you; a small wave of gratitude from a man who has never known any before.

There are times you want to reach out to him. You want to reassure him that he's not alone, but that's such a foreign concept. Trust is not something he is accustomed to, and you understand why. It's sad, but there's nothing that can be done to change it. To accept him is to accept everything, or you end up hating him, attitude and all.

Despite that, his loyalty cannot be replaced with anything. No matter the struggle, he'll be there to help you, and to dually inform you of your idiocy for having gotten involved in such a mess. You wince, you bite your tongue to avoid retaliating, not so much out of fear of what he'll do but because you know he's right. There's always logic in those words, and you're always grateful for the scolding, even if it stings, because he's showing that he cares, in his own way. It makes you smile, and makes you hurt at the same time. It's a bittersweet tenderness with a backlash of violent vociferation that is strangely befitting, and you realize that if it were any other way it wouldn't be right.

He lies to you, but never to himself. His honor code allows it, though you can't draw the lines that would let it all make sense. It doesn't have to make sense, he lives by his own ways and that's more than obvious. Still, to know something about how that mind ticks would be intriguing to say the least. But you know better. Prodding into his mind would be like disturbing a bee hive with a branch; foolish and dangerous with unforeseeable consequences. And so, you let it be, always teetering on the edge of curiosity, but knowing that to tumble over would mean more backlashes, and a possible bludgeoning if his mood is right.

So you let it go. You learn to in his case. There's nothing else that can be done, because trying to stop him will only force him to walk away sooner, and that's the last thing you want. You learn to wait. It will come when the time is right, and if it's right. There are strange little instances where he does open up, but it's only one small glint of light in a mysterious nighttime sky through which you can see no other visible reference points. After that, it's swallowed up as if it was never really there, and you're left in a bitter silence. If he's going to say anything, it will never be on anyone's terms but his own. Which is fair enough, you suppose.

It is those times of vulnerability in which you must be the most cautious. A lending hand or a gesture of comfort will almost immediately be retaliated against - a word here or there, if wisely chosen, are usually all that is needed, and sometimes will not even receive a mark of sarcasm in return. Always remember who it is you are speaking to. Never suggest that he is incapable of undergoing a task. He will be more than happy to prove you wrong, and when in the case of giving care, never express your worries. Do only what is needed, because although he is grateful, the outward affection only embarrasses him, which provides discomfort and will receive only bitter words and possibly harsh actions.

It's hard to say. In all honestly, it's like dealing with a time bomb that is set to go off but may not always be properly wired. You simply have to weigh the situation and your options, and find the best way to cope with the ordeal, whatever it is.

You learn to watch from afar, and silently communicate the fact that if there is ever a need for assistance, regardless of the conditions, you will be there waiting to assist in any way possible. He'll tell you time and again that he doesn't need it, but one day he will, and there will settle between you a silent air of gratitude that can be compared with little else.


End file.
